


A Jumping Off Point to Start Negotiations

by MechBull



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: (at first), Academy Era, Dubious Consent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 14:11:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15932078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechBull/pseuds/MechBull
Summary: Jemma gets a disappointing score on an exam. Fitz helps her feel better.





	A Jumping Off Point to Start Negotiations

**Author's Note:**

> As noted in the tags, this starts off as dubcon but it certainly doesn't stay that way. 
> 
> Yes, the title is a quote from Clueless.

“A 96!” Jemma grumbled for the twentieth time that night. At least.

“It’s not that bad,” Fitz repeated himself.

He was on his stomach on her bed, propping his head up as he watched a classic _Doctor Who_ episode on her small telly. Behind him, she leaned against her nest of pillows and stared at the exam they had received back earlier that day. The Engineering Physics class had been one of their most difficult at the Academy yet, and while Jemma had excelled in the earlier bionanotech unit, she had uncharacteristically struggled with the recent robotics and machine learning stuff. Despite his reminders that this class was his choice and she had run circles around him in the advanced biochem one she had selected for them that semester, it was no use. She was still kicking herself. Over a 96. 

“It’s the worst score I’ve ever received on an exam,” she moaned. 

“Well…clearly, they’re going to kick you out of Sci-Tech. It’s off to McDonald’s for you.”

One sock-covered foot nudged against his shoulder in a weak kick.

“Ow,” Fitz complained insincerely.

The familiar theme song interrupted their conversation and Fitz looked up. He had missed the end of the episode. Oh well, he’d seen it seven or eight times already. With a sigh, he lowered down, resting his head on his arms and thinking about how far away his dorm building was and how cold it was outside. 

“Can I sleep here?”

“Mm-hmm,” Jemma agreed. 

It was hardly the first time either of them had crashed in the other’s room. Fitz even had his preferred pillow at Jemma’s, which Jemma helpfully marked with a mismatched tartan case. But it was all the way at the other end of the bed. 

“I’m too tired to turn around,” he whined.

“Oh for God’s – ”

Moments later, the pillow hit the back of his head. Hard. 

“Thank you,” Fitz replied, only half sarcastically.

He repositioned himself onto his back, and from his new angle, he watched as Jemma put the exam on her bedside table, pressed the power button on the remote and turned off the lamp. The room plunged into darkness. That was their cue to finish getting comfortable. Fitz unbuttoned his jeans, removing them quickly so he was just in his t-shirt and boxers. Beside him, he felt Jemma shifting around as well. Her jeans hit the floor seconds after his, followed by the two soft thuds of her balled-up socks. Her arm moved one last time, and something flew past him but did not make any sound as it hit the ground. He knew it was her bra, and he flushed with embarrassment, thankful that she couldn’t see his reaction. 

She fluffed the light blanket over both of them, and Fitz hummed appreciatively. Then, Jemma settled against her pillows with a sigh.

Only to follow it up with a groan as she moved to her side. “Your feet stink,” she informed him.

Fitz snorted, turning to his side as well, but facing in the opposite direction. “Sorry.” They were silent for a long beat, until Fitz realized something that made him laugh again, louder.

“What?”

“We’re in the 96 position.”

This time when Jemma kicked him, it was his head and it was not nearly as soft as before. 

“Ow,” Fitz grumbled.

**

Jemma blinked, slowly adjusting her eyes to the sunlight sneaking through her curtains. And then she gasped.

Sometime during the night, she and Fitz had turned to face each other. The blanket had been tossed off, and she was greeted with a very enthusiastic good morning…from his erect penis directly in front of her nose. It was sticking out from under the leg of his boxers and – oh goodness.

She knew it had happened once or twice before, when they crashed in the same room. But those times, he had been awake and aware around the same time as her, and he had stayed carefully under the covers, his knees up to hide anything…protruding. He had talked very quickly and loudly about anything and everything he could think of, while Jemma pretended she had no idea what made him so nervous and awkward. It was just biology, after all.

She had – she had never seen a penis before. Oh, certainly, in anatomy courses and when changing her young cousin’s diapers, but that was _hardly_ the same thing. She had never seen a _man’s_ penis before, and certainly not one that was aroused and leaking pre-ejaculate. 

She breathed out heavily, noting with some alarm that he twitched when her air flowed over his skin. She froze, afraid he would wake up. But there was no further response from him, so Jemma took the opportunity to continue to stare.

For learning purposes, of course.

The color was different, darker than his normal skin tone, but she suspected that was at least partly because of how – _engorged_ – it was. Farther down beneath the boxers, she could see curly dark hair. But the most distracting part of all was definitely the fluid on the (circumcised, she was pretty sure) head. 

She wondered how it tasted. Her scientific curiosity – or at least that’s what she was going to call it – overrode her good sense and her respect for her friend. She reached one hand out slowly, touching the tip of her index finger ever so lightly to the glistening skin, just enough to dampen it. Pulling back equally slowly, Jemma stuck her finger in her mouth, dabbing her tongue to the moisture. 

Hmm. Not what she had expected, but not _bad_. 

She reached out to try again, this time letting her finger stroke slightly over the shaft first. She never reached the head, though, because Fitz murmuring her name caused her to yank her hand back. She looked down at his face, ready to apologize profusely, but then realized he hadn’t actually woken up. His cheeks were flushed and he was breathing heavily (almost as heavily as she was), but he was still asleep. He was…dreaming about her? And, judging by the evidence, it was a very nice dream.

She squeezed her legs together unconsciously, suddenly realizing he was not the only one who was wet and aroused. And she didn’t have his excuse of unconsciousness. She was desperate for some kind of relief though. With one last quick glance to make sure he still slept, Jemma changed course, moving her hand down instead of out. She slid her fingers over her knickers until she reached her mound and ultimately her clit. The fabric was soaked and felt both incredible and uncomfortable when she pressed firmly against herself. Rubbing in small, hard, quick circles, she looked forward again. She wasn’t sure it was possible, but the erection seemed even fuller.

She fingered herself faster, her legs moving almost involuntarily to give herself more access. She wondered what it would be like to feel a – _cock_ – inside her. Not – not _Fitz’s_ , of course. They had never felt like that about each other. Just _a_ cock. This – this wasn’t about him, personally. She’d just never – and it was right there – and she couldn’t help but – 

Jemma bit her lip, suppressing a squeak of pleasure as she adjusted the angle of her wrist and found just the right spot. 

“Jemma,” Fitz said again, breathless with desire. She wondered what the dream version of her was doing to him and if it felt half as good as she felt at the moment. “What are you – ”

Jemma yelped in shock when she realized the question was actually from a lucid – well, awake, at any rate – Fitz. She removed her hand from her crotch, rolling away from him as fast as she could. But he stopped her with one hand on her hip, turning her back to where she’d been.

Jemma squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to look at him. Her face burned with humiliation and shame, and she wrapped her hand around her stomach. 

“Sorry, I – ” she began, completely uncertain how to finish the apology. “I don’t – I just – ”

“It’s OK,” Fitz interrupted.

She risked looking at him then. He stared back at her, clearly embarrassed yet more than a little pleased. She saw no anger or reproach. Jemma smiled involuntarily, ducking her eyes again. 

“A little unfair, though,” Fitz said quietly.

She couldn’t tell if he was teasing or – 

“What do you mean?” she asked, hesitant but intrigued. 

“Well, what all did you do while I was asleep?”

Jemma covered her face with her hand. Her fingers were still a little damp from her own arousal and she wondered if there were still traces of his own beneath that.

“I – I – I touched you,” she confessed. His soft grunt and the tiny, perhaps subconscious thrust of his hips, emboldened her. “Just enough to get some of your… _precum_ on my finger.” She hated the word, but his sharp exhalation made it worth it. “So I could taste it,” she added.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Fitz whimpered. 

“You could,” Jemma began, pausing as she worked up the courage to continue. “You could do the same. It’s only fair.”

“Yeah?” The eagerness in his voice was unmistakable.

“Yeah.” Jemma nodded, with more than a little anticipation herself. 

“But – ” Fitz said, making Jemma’s heart clench with fear that he’d stop or – ”You got to touch me directly and you’re still covered.”

He was trying to sound petulant but it came out more smug and daring, and Jemma chuckled. She reached both hands down, pushing at her knickers until they were stretched lower around her thighs, leaving her feeling vaguely trapped. The restraint and the cold air on her wet skin were shockingly arousing, especially when combined with Fitz’s noise of appreciation. 

Before she could really prepare herself, Fitz reached out. He took advantage of the opportunity, starting farther back and dragging his fingers through her folds, pressing in slightly, and ending with a circle around her clit. Jemma moaned, her eyes closing and her hand darting out to grasp his hip for support. Moments later, she forced her eyes open again so she could watch him suck on his fingers. The look of bliss on his face probably matched her own. 

“Fitz,” she murmured, unable to manage anything more than a whisper.

He looked down to meet her eyes. Even from a distance, she could see how dazed he was. 

“You got to watch me touch myself,” she reminded him coyly.

He responded to the challenge as she expected, and desperately hoped, he would. Moving his own hands down, he carefully eased his boxers around his cock and pushed them further down. Immediately, he wrapped his fist around himself, using the leaking fluid to ease his grip as he stroked. A guttural sound ripped from Jemma’s dry throat as she watched, rapt. 

Fitz moved at a quick pace, as if he couldn’t hold back, but Jemma wasn’t ready for this to end. She reached out, placing a hand over his and slowing down his speed. He whimpered in response, and without even really thinking about it, Jemma moved her hand to cup and tug at his balls.

“Fuck,” he grunted, making Jemma grin. His voice was tight with desire when he continued, “Can I taste you again?”

Jemma nodded, not trusting her voice. She spread her legs as much as she could, giving him room to swipe his finger again. Instead, he shocked her by moving his whole body forward and burying his face between her thighs, his head pushing against the taut fabric of her knickers. His mouth covered her entrance and his tongue lapped at her, making her shriek in pleasure. Her hips bucked involuntarily, seeking out more, and he obliged. Releasing his cock, he moved his hand to her arse, tugging her closer. She could feel his jaw working, and his lips drag across her own (different) set, and his nose poke further below. Jemma whined, pressing herself closer, trying to take more and more. 

Something bumped against her face, and it took her a moment to realize it was his now-neglected cock. She opened her eyes, staring almost unseeingly at it for a heady moment. And then she tilted her head, opening her mouth to suck him in. 

It was only fair, after all. 

She heard him swear, and then all she heard was the rushing of her rapid pulse and the ragged breaths she stole whenever she could and the wet suction of her mouth around him. She bobbed her head with as little finesse as he ate her out with on the other end, but both were far too gone to care about each other’s inexperience. 

Fitz came first, warning her with an urgent tap against her side. After a moment’s hesitation, Jemma backed away, quickly wrapping her hand around his cock and stroking him to completion instead. His release coated her chest and neck, dripping down to the top edge and strap of her tank. It made her feel simultaneously sexy and dirty. 

She looked down, smiling when she saw Fitz resting his forehead against her thigh. His breath shuddered across her entrance, and he seemed entirely stunned for a second. And then he collected himself, and latched onto her again with renewed purpose. Jemma moaned, hugging him tightly and pressing her breasts against his abdomen. She clung to him as the fluttering contractions of her orgasm began. 

So that was oral sex. _Huh._

She was still rather weak when he forced himself up and shifted around on the mattress. She knew he was level with her now, but she was strangely afraid to open her eyes and meet his. So, the feel of his fingers when they pressed lightly to her chest came as a surprise. She breathed out slowly as he swirled his fingers through the evidence of his ecstasy, working it into her skin. Soon enough, he dipped below her tank, caressing between her cleavage before crossing over to her erect nipple. Her mouth dropped open briefly before she sucked her lower lip between her teeth. Finally, she looked at him.

“That was quite an experiment,” he observed cautiously.

Jemma realized he was letting her decide what this meant and where it would lead. The whole thing was dream-like and it seemed like they were existing somewhere out of time, somewhere just the two of them. They could leave this bed and go back to normal, pretend it never happened. Just stay best friends. They had never thought of each other like that before. It was what she told her parents, her friends, their classmates, whenever it came up. She wondered if it had always been such an obvious lie. 

But it was a lie that needed to be told. Their friendship, their partnership, their ambitious hopes for Sci-Ops after graduation all depended on it. Their future careers were too important. 

But maybe their future _together_ was even more so. 

“Yes, it was,” she agreed. He nodded, holding her gaze but also holding back his own thoughts. Before now, she would have said that Fitz could never keep anything from her, but she couldn’t read his feelings on the matter at all. She just had to follow her own. “But good science needs to be replicated.”

Fitz’s façade dropped, and he smiled brilliantly instead. His short laugh was incongruous with the tears that sprung to his eyes. But he simply nodded. “Yeah,” he replied. “As often as possible.”

And with that, he lowered down to kiss her for the first time. Jemma reached a hand up, threading her fingers through his curls. She grimaced at the taste of herself, but it was gone soon enough as he lowered his head and focused on kissing and sucking her neck instead.

“Go out with me tonight,” he whispered just loud enough for her to hear. And he seemed extremely concerned that he knew exactly what he was asking, since he followed it up with, “On a date.”

“Yes,” she nodded, almost dizzy from the sensation of his lips and tongue against the sensitive skin of her throat.

He shifted again, moving his head lower towards her chest. It was then that she remembered.

“Oh no! I told Milton – ”

She was cut off when he lightly bit her clavicle and growled in response. Fitz had been making fun of Milton ever since he’d asked her out earlier that week. It was supposed to be Jemma’s first date ever and while she didn’t particularly _like_ Milton, she had been excited about it. She wondered now just how much of Fitz’s grumbling about lost productivity and mocking of Milton’s head had been motivated by jealousy. 

“I’ll cancel,” she promised.

“And have dinner with me?”

“Yes.”

He lifted himself to his elbows and smiled down at her, relieved. She must have made quite the sight with her kiss-swollen lips and her hair spread out on the pillow because his expression soon turned lustful again. 

“And maybe end up back here?”

“And maybe end up back here,” she repeated with a sly smile. 

All science had _some_ degree of probability, she supposed, but she was pretty certain the only maybe about it was whether they’d go back there or to Fitz’s room. 

But first – she pushed Fitz away from her even as he was leaning down to kiss her again. The look on his face was priceless as she squeezed out from under him. She hopped off the bed. 

“Jemma, where – ?”

She turned to look at him as she blindly dug into her dresser drawer for fresh clothes. 

“Jackson’s office hours start in 30 minutes,” she reminded him of what should have been obvious. “I have to go argue those four points back.”

He collapsed onto her bed with a groan.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is in honor of the fact that I just passed 69 stories posted to AO3 (afraid to count how many total!). Man, I need a life.


End file.
